


Love Me Two Times

by Isis_McGee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis_McGee/pseuds/Isis_McGee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Sam and Dean's relationship has changed, maybe it's not so hard to believe they'd have room to fit someone else in, even if just for a moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is suitable for public reading, but the second is definitely NSFW.

Dean wouldn’t begrudge his brother anything, not when it really mattered.  If his brother wanted something, he gave it to him and he didn’t mind sharing. Sure he’d give him shit for certain things, or he’d act like Sam was being a huge inconvenience, but really, he’d give Sam anything he wanted. And everyone knew that.  He’d grown up like that.

He and Sam had shared clothes until the kid had shot up, being two inches shorter than Dean one day and the next looking down his nose at his older brother, smirking. Just to get back at him, Dean wore Sam’s shirts on a regular basis when they were 21 and 17, respectively. The sleeves of both of their clothing fit Dean just fine but when Sam tried to wear Dean’s, the wrists were a few inches short. He’d acted like a son of a bitch when his little brother had gotten taller than him, he knew, but secretly, Dean had been proud when Sam had started using his height to his advantage; he’d wanted to be mad the first time his brother had beaten him sparring, but honestly, how could he be when he and his father had taught his brother to win by any means possible? He had hit him twice as hard on days that Sam had gotten cocky about the height difference though; Dean had gone on his first real hunt at 14, six years ago, while Sam had been on research duty until two months ago when the height difference was noticeable. Experience trumped size, and Dean told his little brother that any time he could. After Stanford, Dean’s shirts were too small in the chest for Sam as well. Dean didn’t know what kind of work out regiment Sam had taken up, but his kid brother had filled out in the chest while he was being collegiate.

Dean gave his brother some leeway after they left Palo Alto; he couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose someone the way Sam had. Hell, the only people Dean had ever had for any real sort of time were Sam and their dad and well, he was with Sam and searching for their dad. So when Sam wanted to drive, Dean let him drive, nevermind the only other times Sam had been behind the wheel of the impala were emergencies or the few times he’d begged Dean to let him take their car as a way to impress a girl he’d liked. Dean had impressed too many chicks with the car not to give into that request. John had given the car to Dean and bought himself a pickup when his eldest son had turned 18 and none of them expected it to ever be Sam’s car in particular. Sam driving it always felt like Sam driving Dean’s car. John knew his youngest wanted out of the life and the impala was too much a symbol of it for Sam to want the car. Dean simply couldn’t imagine his brother without him. At least, he hadn’t been able to until nine months ago when he made a deal at a crossroads.

In those nine months, Dean found his gun, the 1911 that John had carried in the jungles of Vietnam and given to him as a 19th birthday gift, in Sam’s hands more often than he ever had. It was a beautiful gun, and Dean had admired it and the way it looked, powerful and sleek, in his father’s hand for as long as he could remember, but Sam hadn’t ever really shown any interest in the aesthetics of their weapons. His gun was functional, he kept it clean of course, but it wasn’t decorative in the way that colt 1911 was. But Dean would see his brother looking at his gun in his hands before they’d enter whatever abandoned house or creepy graveyard or haunted asylum they were barreling into that day and the next day, Sam would pick the gun up and tuck it in his jacket pocket. When Dean asked with a simple “Dude?” Sam always shrugged and replied “It was closest” even when that was a blatant lie. But if Sam wanted to use Dean’s gun that day, Sam could use Dean’s gun that day. It looks just as pretty in his gargantuan hands as it did in John’s, even if it looks a little smaller.

It wasn’t until their gas-station bought Christmas, what they think will be Dean’s last, that Sam admitted to why he’d been using the gun. It had been about 1 AM, and they’d been steadily drinking since at least 8, and Sam hadn’t been light-handed on the alcohol content of the nog, when he’d out of the blue explained.

“You love that gun just like Dad did,” he’d slurred. Dean, despite having a better tolerance, brought on by more practice, than his little brother, wasn’t sober either. He’d looked at him with glassy eyes, confused, when Sam continued. “You always want to know why I take your gun. You love it.”

“You take my gun because I love it?” Dean knew that even if he were sober that wouldn’t make any sense. “And love? I wouldn’t say that. It’s just beautiful.”

“You love beautiful stuff. Well, your beautiful stuff. Or you just decide the stuff you love is beautiful. Even when it’s not. Not to normal people at least. Girls, the impala, porn,” Sam rambled. Dean laughed at the last one and Sam did after a second as well. The older Winchester got up and took the cup out of his brother’s hand. A noise of protest escaped the younger and Dean held up the bottle of Jack in response, indicating he was just pouring them more. Not that either of them needed it, not really. They both would feel like hell tomorrow but neither cared right then.

“Well it’s a good thing you’re my brother and I have to love your ugly mug, then, isn’t it?” Dean slung the joke at Sam as he sat down and handed him his drink. Sam let out a bark of laughter and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not you, but girls still like me,” he scoffed.

“So? Even Gene Simmons got dates. But he had the tongue thing goin’ for him,” Dean snorted. Sam found this hilarious, despite the fact that it was meant to be an insult against him. And of course, when Sam laughed, Dean laughed.

“You’re an asshole,” was Sam’s response when he finally stopped laughing. He took a drink, damn near a gulp, of his nog.

“Yeah, but a beautiful one. You basically said so yourself.” Dean gave him a cheeky grin, the same sort of grin he’d flash at girls at bars. It was hard to turn off, even if his brother was the only one to see it.

Sam looked up from where he’d been contemplating his drink, the small smirk playing on his mouth falling. He pursed his lips the tiniest bit and nodded a little, resolutely. “You are beautiful, Dean. Sometimes the way some devastating act of God is, but you’re beautiful.”

Dean gave his brother a small, genuine smile in thanks. He didn’t know how exactly to respond to that. He chalked it up to the two of them being drunk and the knowledge that Dean was going to die in five months being in the back of their minds.

“None of that explains the gun thing, though.” He needed to change the subject; the Winchester brothers rarely had moments made awkward from feeling and Dean didn’t want to dwell on it. Sam seemed grateful but still drained his drink before answering. Dean’s eyebrows would have shot up in shock, but it seemed like a better idea to follow suit and once again get up and make them another.

“If you’re gonna be gone,” Sam started while Dean was behind him pouring the last of the whiskey into their cups. “If you’re gonna be gone, I gotta be more like you, right? I’ve said that before, I’m sure. I know. But being more like you, means loving what you love. I might not ever love Motorhead, but I can love that gun. Because you’re right, it is beautiful. I think I love it already. Maybe just because it’s yours.”

Dean handed his brother his last drink of the night somewhere in the middle of that explanation and Sam immediately tipped half the contents into his mouth.

“That’s the last of the booze there, so slow down, Sammy,” Dean admonished. He took a small sip of his own drink. Sam looked sad and Dean knew the night had taken a turn for the more maudlin. It had been inevitable, but Dean had held out hope. It didn’t matter than Sam was 24, Dean’s big brother instincts kicked in hard and he grabbed Sam’s wrist, pulling him onto the couch instead of the chair he’d been in most of the night. Neither said anything for a minute, just let Dean’s hand stay on Sam’s wrist and their knees rest against each other’s. Dean resolved to give into Sam, anything his little brother wanted from him for the last five months of this life would be his. When Sam downed the last of his drink there on the couch, Dean would have given him his nearly full cup if he’d asked. What he did do, was watch Dean finish the drink and then flip his hand around so that he was holding onto Dean’s wrist, not the other way around. Dean looked up.

“Please,” Sam had said. He’d looked like he was in pain and Dean’s heart contracted. How could he keep his brother from ever looking like that again?

“Anything,” Dean had replied. He meant it. But when Sam leaned forward and brought his lips to Dean’s, Dean pulled back. He looked at his brother, whose eyes were opening to lock onto Dean’s and read the question in them. “Sammy?”

“I just need you to stay with me.”

It didn’t tell Dean anything he didn’t already know and it certainly didn’t answer the question, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t do that, so he’d do what he could.

“Okay,” Dean nodded. He was drunk and when Sam kissed him again, he not only let it happen, he kissed back. His hands moved to cup his brother’s jaw but they’d only gotten as high as Sam’s shoulders before Sam’s hands were on his face instead. One hand had snaked to the back of his head and Sam was tipping them over, bringing Dean down on top of him on the couch when Dean let go, and went with it. He’d give his baby brother anything he wanted, after all.

Two months later, they found themselves in a bar in Arkansas. They didn’t talk about what happened at Christmas but they didn’t exactly ignore it; Sam would smile a little wider at Dean sometimes or he’d let their feet stay in contact under the table and Dean would throw a wink Sam’s way at a bar or let his hand linger when handing him a gun. But nothing changed otherwise. Hell, they hadn’t even kissed each other since then, even though there had been mornings where they woke up curled into each other, Sam’s fingers wrapped in Dean’s t-shirts and Dean’s arm thrown across Sam’s wide shoulders. But it was Friday February 13th in a bar where Dean suspected the women would be ready to fall into bed with the best looking guy who had a gun and he was sure he and his brother both would fit that bill for some women. What he hadn’t expected was to walk into a shockingly not crowded dive and see Jo Harvelle pouring two fingers of whiskey for a man in a stocking cap.  She turned and laughed at something her fellow bartender, a pixie cut sporting dark haired girl with giant hoop earrings, said when Dean heard his brother.

“Oh shit.” Dean felt the sentiment rather appropriate in light of this surprising turn of events. Apparently Sam had spoken loud enough to grab the attention of the bartender who wasn’t Jo. The girl’s mouth turned up in a blatantly interested small smile taking in the sight of the Winchesters and they both saw her try to surreptitiously nudge Jo. When Jo looked up, her response echoed Sam’s.

“Oh shit. Hey.” She said this with the flatness of shock. It was a cooler welcome than Dean would have figured, but then again, he thought, the last time she’d seen them, Sam had been possessed and nearly killed her and Dean had taken off with a half-hearted promise to call. Flatness was probably more than he could have expected. He decided the best way to get around that was to act like they’d parted just fine.

“Hi, Jo,” he nodded at her as he and Sam both took a seat on the stools open in front of her. The other bartender’s eyes flicked between her coworker and the pair and Dean decided to help her tear herself away from what she figured was about to be a scene. “Can we get a couple of whiskeys, sweetheart?”

“Got a preference as to brand?” she responded, getting the hint but still not taking her eyes from Dean’s mouth.

“Unless you’ve got a special going on where you’ll give me top shelf for rail price, rail’ll do just fine.”  She was gone for their drinks with one last sweep over Sam.

“What are you two doing here? There isn’t a job in this town,” Jo said quickly. Her arms crossed over her chest as she said it.  

“We know,” Sam assured her. Her shoulders relaxed a little bit; Dean hadn’t realized how keyed up she’d gotten when they’d stepped into the bar until that moment. “We just stopped in for a drink, Jo. It’s good to see you.”

Jo looked him in the eye before she replied, “I’m glad to see you’re alright, Sam.” It was patently not a declaration of happiness at seeing him. If she had her way, that’s all they’d have to say about the matter. “You just happened to pick this podunk Arkansas town to stop in for a drink? You didn’t get sent here by my mother?”

“What? No, we haven’t even talked to Ellen in months. Just luck,” Dean answered. The bartender had come back with their drinks, having taken the time to wait on one of the other not even 10 people in the place to give Jo a minute. “Can we start a tab?”

“You can next round. This one’s on me, a thanks for being eye-candy, even if you’re Jo’s ex,” she winked as she said it, making sure both Jo and Dean saw it.

“He’s not,” Jo sputtered. She blushed faintly though.

“Doesn’t matter, anyway, the taller one’s more my type. That’s why _his_ is on the house.” With that, she was gone again.

Dean raised his eyebrow at his brother, ignoring Jo for a moment. “She might not exactly be your type, but hey, sure thing.”

“You’re a pig,” Jo scoffed, disgusted. She glanced over and saw the same man in the stocking cap’s glass was empty and went to ask him if he wanted a refill, her back to Dean and Sam. The latter’s eyes slid to the strip of skin showing between Jo’s black top and tight jeans and Dean raised his eyebrow even further. Sam noticed, having just glanced at Jo. He hadn’t been leering or anything.

“What? And she’s right, you are a pig.”

“You were the one just starin’ at her ass. I thought makin’ passes at Jo was more my territory.”

“Who said anything about making passes? And who says that anyway? I wasn’t staring, I just looked. Just because I don’t flirt with everyone with breasts doesn’t mean I don’t notice when a pretty girl is a pretty girl.”

“You want me to go somewhere else and you can tell Jo that? I’ll go flirt over there, ‘cause again, that other bartender’s a sure thing.”

“She’s even less your type than she is mine,” Sam pointed out. “But that’s not the point.” Jo wasn’t headed back towards them, instead walking from behind the bar to get drinks for the couple of middle aged women who had just sat down.

“What is your point?”

“My point is no, you don’t have to go somewhere else so I can hit on Jo. I’m not going to hit on Jo. She’s probably still terrified of me.”

“So you admit that you’d sleep with her.”

“That’s what you took from that? You’re unbelievable.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“It was an ‘it doesn’t matter,’ Dean. Not only is she rightly scared of me, she’s carrying a hell of a torch for you still, I’d almost guarantee.”

Dean paused at this. It wasn’t new information really‒ he would have had to have been blind not to see the crush Jo had had on him. He could probably still use that, if her blush earlier had been any indication, and Jo was a beautiful girl, but it wouldn’t have felt fair. If he had more than three months to live, so they could make it a regular thing, a regular still just sex and not a relationship but let’s fall into bed together whenever we’re in the same town maybe thing, he wouldn’t have hesitated. As it was, Sam had shown an interest in her. So if he wanted a chance to hit on Jo, Dean would find somehow to go away briefly. But Jo was headed back towards them, obviously not really caring all that much that Dean was a pig.

“You might wanna just let me get your drinks from now on. If you let her do it, she’ll pour you the high end stuff, which is what you’re drinking you know, and she’ll charge you for it. And don’t think about using some bogus credit card in here, the owner’s a sweet guy and he needs the money. You better have cash.” Jo pointed a finger at them at this last admonishment. Dean took this opportunity to get his wallet out and show her the small stack of twenties.

“I’ve got so much cash I’m gonna go fill the juke box. And then I’ma take a piss. You could have another drink for me when I get back.” As Dean stood up, Sam caught his eye. He knew what his brother was doing and pursed his lips, but Dean was in a good mood about this asinine decision apparently and clapped his hand on Sam’s shoulder as he passed. 

Jo looked after him for a minute, resolutely not letting her eyes wander past Dean’s shoulders. Sam noticed the resolve and wanted to laugh a little. The idea of hitting on Jo was ridiculous.

“What are you really doing here, Sam?”

“We really did just stop in for a drink, Jo. Dean got sick of driving and figured it was Valentine’s day so he could clean up, thinking he’d be the best looking guy in the place, that’s all. Trust me.”

Jo raised her eyebrows and just looked at him before he recognized how stupid the last thing he’d said was. Before he could try to fix it somehow, she spoke.

“You just happened to stop at this bar for Dean to get laid, where the only two women under the age of 40 are me and Summer and you expect that to reaffirm that you guys didn’t know I was here? Your brother’s a presumptuous son of a bitch, just because I maybe at one point might have had a tiny crush-“

“Jo, no. No, seriously. We didn’t know you were even in Arkansas.That’s not what I meant by that.” He paused and took a drink of the whiskey he wasn’t paying for. “I’d tell you to trust me, but it was a stupid thing to say the first time. I don’t know how you could.”

“Sam, don’t. We don’t need to talk about it. I know it wasn’t you,” she implored. “I knew then it wasn’t you.”

Sam looked at her. She was clearly willing him to believe her and to not apologize for it and she didn’t want to talk about it but now he had to ask.

“When?”

“When did I know it wasn’t you?” Sam nodded and she looked at little embarrassed, a flush decorating her cheeks slightly. He thought it looked adorable. “Honestly? When you hit on me. You were either drunk or not you and you didn’t seem drunk otherwise.”

“You knew I wasn’t me because I hit on you?” He almost laughed.

“It’s when I suspected. I knew for real because I’d never seen you use your size the way it did. You’re this giant mass of muscle and you never show that. I mean, I never even saw it when you were on a hunt. You definitely weren’t going to use it to hurt me.”

“Well, I’m glad you knew that,” he sent a small smile at the blonde. “I don’t know if it says more about me or more about you that you suspected when I hit on you.” He did laugh then and Jo scoffed.

“I’m not saying you’re a eunuch or anything, I just haven’t seen you show any interest in any girl. Let alone me.” She rolled her eyes with a smile playing on her lips.

“Just because I don’t hit on her with the same over-the-top obviousness as Dean, it doesn’t mean I don’t notice when a girl is beautiful.” Sam knew he was repeating what he’d say to his brother and that he’d also told him he wasn’t going to hit on Jo, but it came out before he could stop it. Plus, Jo might not take it to mean anything towards her.

“You calling me beautiful, Sam?” she said with a smirk. She couldn’t help but flirt with an opening like that. She expected a blush and a stuttering reply or something so earnest that it’d break her heart‒ it was Sam. She didn’t expect that Sam would twist his lips into a smirk and wink at her.

“I might be.”

“And here I thought you didn’t flirt like your brother.” He just shrugged, smirk turning into a smile, dimples jumping out at Jo. She may have had a crush on Dean still, with his green eyes that always seemed to promise activities to make her sweat and his full lipped pout, but didn’t mean that she was blind to the fact that Sam was just as attractive, all epitomic male broad shoulders and slim waist that she knew was complete with washboard abs. “You want another whiskey?”

“Beer’s alright now, thanks.”

   Jo moved to get his beer and saw that Dean, in the course of her flirting with his brother, had returned from the bathroom and the juke box, only to have sat down at the opposite end of the bar to talk to Summer. She couldn’t help the pang of jealousy she felt when she saw the look on the other woman’s face‒ the look like Christmas had come around again so soon. That jealousy left as soon as she heard Summer’s next sentence though.

“Not that I’m not enjoying the performance, but when you gonna stop acting like I interest you even a tiny bit and go flirt with who you really wanna go home with?” She smirked slightly at the obvious shock Dean was feeling.

“Jo wasn’t lying, we don’t‒”

“Honey, I don’t mean her. Although I don’t believe there isn’t or at least wasn’t anything going on between you too either. But I meant that tall drink of water you walked in with.”

“Sam?” He asked incredulously. Jo’s eyebrows rose in amusement and she almost laughed before she heard Dean continue. “No, we’re… That’s… I mean, no.”

Jo very nearly turned and asked him why he didn’t mention that they were brothers but thought better of it. Admitting that she was standing there taking so long with Sam’s beer to listen to Dean flirt with her fellow bartender didn’t seem like a good course of action if she was trying not to look  as though she was still struggling to convince herself that she had no feelings for the older Winchester. Plus if Dean had a reason for hiding the fact that he and Sam were brothers, she wouldn’t jeopardize it.

“Are you sure you two aren’t here on a hunt or something, Sam?” she asked again when she brought him his beer. He let out a small laugh at her crossed arms.

“Jo, we’re not hiding a hunt from you, I swear. You in that big a need for some action?”

“I’m totally going to let that innuendo slide and tell you that maybe you and Dean need a break from each other because that whole not flirting like him is apparently now a lie. But I’m only asking because Dean’s hiding something from Summer; she told him to come back and flirt with who he really wanted to‒ you‒ and he didn’t respond by telling her that you guys are brothers, and I don’t for the life of me know why unless you’re on a job.”

  Sam’s blinked owlishly at Jo and took a swig of his beer. “Who knows why he does the things he does.” The blonde woman’s eyes narrowed slightly. Before she could comment on Sam’s sudden lack of understanding of him, Dean slid onto his previously occupied barstool. “Get lost in the bathroom there, Don Juan?”

“Who?” Sam shook his head and Dean shrugged at him, brushing off the clear disappointment. He looked down at the bar. “You didn’t get me a drink, Jo?”

“I figured you were getting one from Summer; you were over there long enough.”

“You worried I was gonna give her the tip and not you?” Even Sam snorted at that despite the fact that it earned him a glare from Jo. Dean smirked at him though and Sam gave him a smile which made his brother’s smirk widen as well. Jo’s eyes flicked between them and something just seemed off. They weren’t the smiles brothers usually gave each other in a bar near Valentine’s Day. She was still studying them when Dean turned to face her. “It was just a joke, Harvelle. I’m definitely not going home with your friend and I’ll give you a tip. I know I’ve been‒”

“I’ll get your drink,” she said and moved down the bar. Dean called out to “get Sam a shot too, so he can stop acting like a pussy.” She heard a muttered “fuck off, Dean” but more interestingly she heard Dean’s reply of “no, you fuck off. You didn’t even make any kind of move on her did you?” For hunters, those boys were awfully loud and conspicuous in some ways, Jo thought. She didn’t even pretend to not have heard when she returned.

“You realize neither one of you are slick, right?” she said after a moment of silence. She’d glanced around the bar to see if anyone had needed anything, catching Summer’s eye as she noticed no one did. The dark haired girl rolled her eyes in Jo’s direction and so when she brought her eyes back to the Winchesters she knew Summer would take care of anything that did come up.  Sam had the grace to look a little embarrassed but Dean stared right back at her.

“I’ve got no need to be slick; Sam here’s the one who apparently can’t flirt worth a damn.”

“Hey,” he said indignantly.

“He was doing alright,” Jo admitted. She threw a smile at Sam when he looked at her and Dean made a move to get up again as though to leave them alone in response. “Sit down, Dean; I heard Summer send you back over here so you might as well not even go bother her again. Plus, there needs to be a bartender actually doing her job.”

“Sorry we’re a distraction.” Sam would apologize for having to stick someone in a devil’s trap in order to save their life, Jo thought wryly. As dangerous a hunter as she knew he was, she still wondered if he ever really did anything bad.

“There only needs to be one of us doing her job. There’s like 10 people in here counting you two.”  To further illustrate her point, she poured herself a shot and threw it back. “And I’ve had worse distractions.”

“Well with high praise like that how could I not stick around,” Dean said tapping his glass and his brother’s as well. She realized they’d probably be killing the bottle between the three of them and set it on the table.  When Dean had refilled all three of their glasses he nodded his head. “Cheers, Jo” He and Sam clinked their drinks and shot them back before Jo had even registered it. They then both smiled at nothing at the exact same time and Jo knew something had happened. There was something going on in their life so big that they’d become more like one soul in two bodies than real brothers; they’d formed some sort of covenant in the front seat of that Chevy of theirs and Jo was suddenly so lonely she thought she might break down and cry. Instead she took another shot and wondered if either of them really had room for anyone else. Tipping the bottle to give herself a third shot, she made a decision. She slammed it back and then opened her mouth before she could change her mind. 

“Why didn’t you just tell Summer you two are related?” Dean calmly took the bottle for another refill and answered as he watched the liquid slosh into the glass.

“Why shatter the girl’s dream?”

“The Dean I thought I knew would have been offended at the idea that he was anything less than totally straight.”

“A lot’s changed in a year, Jo.” Sam was noticeably silent.

“Yeah, like the fact that you two have slept together.” Dean visibly choked on the whiskey he’d just tried to swallow and Sam looked terrified. He opened his mouth to say something but Jo wouldn’t let him, silencing him with a look. She took the bottle from the table where Dean’s hand was still curled around it. His other was pounding against his chest and when he was done coughing Jo spoke back up.

“You’re gonna deny it, I know. But I don’t care. And I mean I don’t care if you have. This is a fucked up life we lead and you’re not hurting anyone so I don’t care. And there’s something else going on too but I’m not gonna pry.” Her fourth shot was downed while Dean and Sam exchanged glances. The alcohol made her warm. And bold.  “Plus, it means I can ask‒”

“Jo, it only happened one time and we’re not gonna tell you the details,” Sam said in a rush. His brother shot him a look for admitting it out loud, and Jo could tell it wasn’t something they talked about. Ever.

“Will you take me home?”

“You drunk enough you need a ride already, lightweight?” Dean asked before his brain caught up. Then it was Sam who shot him a look.

“Take me home, you two. Please.” The Winchesters looked at each other as though they were having a conversation telepathically. For all Jo knew, they were.

“You sure? Neither one of us is asking you to do that, Jo. Hell, neither one of us is asking you to come home with us on our own.”

“You don’t want me?” she asked, note of fake hurt in her voice. It was mostly faked at least.

“Definitely not what he’s saying,” Dean interjected. She meant to give him a smile but it faltered at the look on his face. Any lust she’d ever felt for Dean Winchester in the moment was eclipsed. She felt a flush creeping up her chest and she had to look back to Sam.

“That’s not it, I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. Out of some weird sense of obligation or something. Or because of alcohol.”

“One, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want it. Two, any sort of obligation that makes me feel like I should sleep with two really hot guys is an obligation I’m okay with‒”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Dean, you’d better not plan on being all alpha male and interrupting me all night,” Jo shot at him. Just because she’d asked to have a threesome with him and his brother it didn’t give him the right to be smarmy about it.

“No, ma’am,” he said with a nod. Sam smirked.

“And I’m not drunk enough to make any decision I wouldn’t normally. Have a little faith in my tolerance. Does that clear your conscious, Sam?”

He looked at her a few seconds, as if examining if she were lying or just trying to decide if he really wanted to do this, she wasn’t sure. He smiled then and replied, “Yes. And thank you for indulging me.”

“You always wanna talk about everything, Sammy,” Dean said as though it were something he ribbed his brother about often. He was standing up from his stool and he stretched his hands over his head, shirt riding up giving Jo a glance of skin. Where Sam was completely chiseled, Dean was just that little bit softer and Jo wondered at how that difference would feel if she was between them, Dean’s hands holding her against the wall of his brother. She could feel herself warming at the thought but she was taken from the mental preview by Dean’s voice. “What do I owe you to take the rest of this bottle?”

“Thirty covers you,” Jo replied. It was an inane little exchange and it was necessary if she was going to actually function for this. She hadn’t lied to Sam, she wasn’t drunk enough to not be able to make this decision and she certainly did want it, but now that they were clearly in agreement that it would happen and it seemed like that in moments she’d be in the impala with them going wherever‒ were they doing this in their hotel or hers?‒ she was nervous about it. She wasn’t some blushing virgin by any means and it wasn’t like she’d never had anything other than vanilla sex, but this was new. “I have to make sure Summer’s okay to close up on her own.”

It wouldn’t be that hard for the other girl to close up by herself and Jo would give her her tips for a week if she had to and she was fully prepared to beg when she approached her. Before she even opened her mouth to ask, her friend was talking. “Just go, you lucky bitch. I’m gonna ask you all about it later though and I expect you to spill the details.” Summer was smiling at her even though Jo tried to look offended. She was thankful that’s all the payment she wanted though and was fairly certain she could just make details up. Jo grabbed her jacket from the hook it’d been hanging on and came out from behind the bar.

“Last chance to change your mind, Jo.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Where’d you get a room?” Ignoring Dean’s implied question seemed like a good enough response. Sam answered her.

“We, uh, didn’t actually,” he said sounding a little sheepish.

“Wow, so it was get laid or sleep in your car?” she laughed a little as they went out the door. It was the middle of February but shockingly cold for the middle of Arkansas and Jo’s thin cotton jacket, while cute, wasn’t really a help. “You would have froze to death if you hadn’t found some girl.” Sam put a hand on her back and rubbed in an attempt to warm her.

“It’s not that cold,” he said. Jo wasn’t on the verge of shivering anymore as they walked to the impala that was parked just down the street.

“I know, but sleeping out here still wouldn’t have been fun.” Sam’s hand was still on her back up near her shoulder blades but instead of moving fast enough to keep her warm, his fingers were making small circles nearly unconsciously. Jo wasn’t really used to that sort of sustained sweetness in physical contact but it wasn’t unpleasant at all and she couldn’t help but marvel at how much of her back his one hand took up and just how much bigger he was from her in general. Despite the fact that she was a petite girl, she was strong and she’d always felt fairly certain of the idea that she’d be able to incapacitate a guy she was with if she had to, but with Sam‒ and with Dean‒ her strengths were garnered from the same place as theirs. Either of them could physically overpower her at any moment, but that giant hand on her back actually reassured her that that would never happen.  She trusted them not to hurt her, but also not to hold back. When they reached the impala, Dean opened the passenger door before he moved to take his seat behind the wheel and Sam held a hand out indicating she should scoot into the middle. She appreciated the bench seat of the muscle car more than she ever had. Especially when both Winchesters were in and the doors closed and her legs were flush with theirs, warming them considerably.

“Where to? Unless you wanted to try to maneuver this in our hotel?” Dean smirked. Jo’s mind immediately gave her images of black eyes and busted lips from attempting to disrobe with all three of them in the backseat and she blanched momentarily then laughed.

“That would only end in pain. I’m staying at the bluebird motel on 6th.” The engine roared to life as Dean nodded and the arm he put at the back of the seat when he turned to reverse wound up slung across Jo’s shoulder as they drove. Sam fiddled with the radio and was shocked when Dean let him; of course he immediately told him that he’d better let that song play or he’d leave him on the side of the road whether or not Jo wanted him around when he heard Jimmy Page’s guitar. After turning it up as his brother instructed, Sam’s hand found itself half on his own thigh, half on Jo’s. Dean took the opportunity to look away from the road and stop singing along for a second to smirk to Jo.

“So it’s not the A side of Zeppelin four, but I’ll still buy you a pizza if you want.” Jo couldn’t stop the smile that spread on her face and she laughed before leaning further into Dean’s side. Sam was clearly confused by the exchange but when Jo took the hand that was resting on her thigh and squeezed, he squeezed back.

The drive between the bar and her hotel room was never long but tonight it seemed extra short to Jo. They were pulling into the parking lot, into the spot she usually parked actually, as Robert Plant was wailing that he was about to lose his worried man.

“You two are okay with this right?” Jo asked. She couldn’t shake the nerves she’d started to feel as they left the bar. She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t. Neither of the Winchesters answered her but when Sam opened the door and stepped out, he pulled her along. He pushed the door shut behind her and stepped toward the sidewalk that ran in front of the hotel’s doors, hand still in hers as he did so. But then his hands were on her waist, nearly completely circling it and he was lifting her up slightly so that she was half sitting on the still hot hood of the impala. He leaned down and was kissing her, lips soft and insistent on hers when she regained composure enough to respond. It was over before she could reach a hand up to his neck like she wanted but he was smiling when he pulled away and set her back firmly on her feet. She hadn’t even noticed the warmth of the impala until it was gone. Sam was giving off enough heat to compete with it.

“I’m fine with it. Dean?”

“As long as you two will share, yeah, I think so.” Jo couldn’t tell who he was smirking at more. She fished the keys out of her pocket and walked to room 112 with the boys behind her. When she’d unlocked the door and turned to let them in, she saw Sam’s hand in Dean’s back pocket where they were still standing near the impala. “You can grope me inside, man, let’s go.”

“I’m not groping you, jerk,” Sam told him, holding up the foil wrapper he’d clearly slipped out of the pocket. With the look Dean gave him, Sam amended his statement. “I wasn’t _just_ groping you.”

“You did grab more than one of those, yeah?” Jo called from the door.

“You plan on wearin’ us out, Harvelle?” Dean asked, eyebrow cocked.

“Only if you can’t keep up. And I don’t wanna wear down my own stash that much.” It was easier to posture than to indicate how hard her heart was beating..

“You gonna be alright?”

“Are you gonna be, old man?” Sam shot over his shoulder at his brother and smiled at Jo as he headed towards her.

“I had my first threesome when you were doing trig homework, Sammy, so watch it,” Dean responded. He was in the doorway with Jo and he smiled down at her. She smiled back and opened her mouth to say something snarky but she was stopped by Dean’s hand on her cheek. It was a simple gesture but her breath caught still. “Thanks, Jo,” he said and leaned down to kiss her, lips far more gentle than she expected but every bit as lovely. The hand not on her cheek was at her waist and pulled her closer to him. Somehow the door was shut, _Sam_ , she thought and then her back was against it. She vaguely heard the sound of boots coming off but she was distracted by the sensation of Dean’s hand making its way under her shirt to trace figure eights along the edge of her jeans so she wasn’t sure if they were hers or Sam’s or even Dean’s. The kiss had lost some of its gentleness and Jo kissed back, urging him on. She tried to deepen the kiss, tongue nudging against the older Winchester’s plush bottom lip but he pulled back a little with a small laugh.

“Don’t‒”

“I’m not laughing at you, Jo. Nerves. That’s all. I promise.” His one hand was still under her shirt, resting on her hip and the other was at her neck. He leaned forward again as though to kiss her and turned his head to the side, mouth at her ear. “Plus, I don’t think it’s fair to Sam if I take you up against the door and make him just watch.” 

Jo bit her lip to keep from letting out the small moan that threatened to escape her and she knew Sam saw it even if Dean didn’t. Dean’s voice was like honey and whiskey and sex all in one. He’d said it loud enough that Sam heard him and the younger man stood from where he’d been sitting on the edge of the bed. He walked to right behind his brother and leaned his chin on his shoulder. But, God, he was tall.

“Would you like that, Jo? Dean just fucking you right here, you watching me over his shoulder as he gives it to you? I think it’d drive me crazy.” Sam said all this rather matter of factly and Jo sucked in a breath she hadn’t realized she’d needed. He smirked at the response and Dean pressed a thumb into her hipbone. Sam, of course, didn’t let Jo answer before one of his hands came around Dean’s shoulder and his thumb brushed at her lip. She caught it with her teeth half on instinct and his smirked widened. 

Dean slipped out from between them, the loss of his hands leaving Jo wanting to chase after their warmth. But he was just standing next to his brother and slipped his hand into Sam’s back pocket to repay him for the grope outside, she guessed. Sam moved his hand from Jo’s face to tug a strand of her hair before he let it slide to her hand to pull her away from the door. She stepped away and Dean took her other hand and squeezed briefly before letting go.

“You really are beautiful, you know,” Sam told her. It was sweet and she almost looked down and blushed before he’d used her hand to nearly yank her to him. His chest really was a solid mass of muscle and she put her hands on his waist, eager to get under his clothes.

“And you’re both gorgeous. And way too clothed.” She’d found her voice somewhere again as she went for the buttons on the plaid he was wearing. She glanced over at Dean who had a look that was half amusement, half lust. “You too, Dean”

Dean’s hands were working on his buttons when Sam swooped down to kiss Jo again. It wasn’t gentle the way the first kiss on the impala’s hood had been. This was Sam unafraid to show his want and his teeth caught her bottom lip when she opened her lips to let his tongue in. She was working on pushing his shirt off his shoulders when he pulled back. He didn’t say anything for a second and Jo wondered if something was wrong.

“Sam?” He moved his hands from her hips and cupped her ass, making sure she was pressed against him completely. She felt that he was already hard. “Sam.”

“Is it weird that I think the way you say my brother’s name is just as sexy as how you sound when you say mine?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he brought his lips to her neck, He had to bend down to do so and Jo’s hands clutched at his shoulder blades as he did. She could feel the muscles there flex as he ran his hands down the back of her thighs. He left trails of fire in his wake down them and she’d never thought that would be such a sensitive spot. There were hands sneaking between her and Sam then, making identical trails of heat on the front of her legs. Dean’s lips were at the other side of her neck and she felt a soft bite and let out a breathy “oh.”

“You have way too many clothes on too, you know, babe,” Dean said as his teeth found her earlobe. Sam was working his way down, his lips now on her collar bone. She moved her hands to get to the hem of her shirt when someone grabbed her wrist. “Let me. Sammy, off.”

Dean had her shirt off in a blink and Jo felt two sets of eyes on her, which meant that they noticed the blush creeping up on her chest. Sam stroked a hand up her side and under the bottom of her bra on her ribs. Dean was tracing the edge of one of her bra straps and Jo wanted to scream from how teasing they were being.

“So we established that you wanted to do this back at the bar,” Sam started. His hand was inching toward her breast, still under the material, and then finding its way back to just under her armpit. She finally realized his other hand was on his brother’s hip, making patterns of nothing against it with his thumb. Dean kissed the back of Jo’s neck and her head rolled forward nearly on his own accord to give him more space. She felt his lips turn upwards as he found the notches of her spine.

“Sam, say whatever you’re gonna say,” Jo groaned as his fingertips grazed the underside of her breast. This was a lot more foreplay than she was used to and she wasn’t sure that it wouldn’t kill her.  After she’d opened her mouth his hand once again was at her side. This time he started to move his hand backwards. His hand was at the clasp of her bra before he answered.

“You didn’t exactly say how you wanted this to go.” He’d undone the clasp by the time he was finished with his sentence. Dean’s hands were pushing the straps down and Jo felt the material slip off her. She dropped her hands from where they’d been on Sam’s waist and let the bra fall to the floor.

Sam dropped to his knees as though following it and looked up at Jo.

“What do you mean?” she asked with a hitch in her throat as Sam began to mouth at her newly bared skin.

“What my brother would tell you, if he weren’t a little busy seeing just how hard he can get those pretty pink nipples,” Dean said as he took one in between his thumb and forefinger and rolled gently. “Is that he wants to know what you want us to do to you. Or each other, I guess.” Jo felt Sam nod even as his tongue circled her. He looked up and shared a look with Dean who was leaning over Jo’s shoulder to see what she looked like with her chest naked and heaving under their ministrations.  They switched, Sam’s mouth moving from right to left and Dean’s fingers working Jo’s left nipple through his brother’s saliva. One of Sam’s hands was still on Dean’s hip and he must have pulled him closer because suddenly Jo could feel Dean’s body at her back, cock digging into the space just above her hip. She ground back into him and got a pinch for it which made her moan.

“Well,” her breath caught as Dean kissed her neck again, the sensation of lips and fingers around her hardened buds and hand on her ass and hot breath on her sensitive neck making it difficult to breathe normally let alone talk. “I…” she trailed off, unsure what to say. She knew she wanted to keep feeling this good, but she wasn’t sure how.

Sam pulled away from tonguing her tits and gave her a slow look. “Dean could fuck you while I fucked him… or I could fuck you while he fucked me…” His hands were running up and down her torso as he talked. “Or we could both fuck you at once, one of us sliding in your wetness  and the other in that tight little ass or in between those red lips,” he said this last bit while running his index finger across her mouth. “Personally, before we do any of that, I wanna watch my brother lick you until you beg.”

“Oh my god,” Jo couldn’t have hidden reaction to that for anything. She’d be lying if she’d said she hadn’t fantasized about Dean going down on her and hearing the way Sam said it, she could have come right then.

“I might even let you watch me return the favor on him while you recover. Let him just use my mouth as your pussy stops quivering.”

“Jesus, little brother, where’d you learn to talk like that?” Dean asked, stopping progress on the impressive hickey that Jo would have to cover up in the morning.

“Too much?” he responded without a shred of shame.

“I don’t care,” Jo breathed. “How can you say stuff like that and still have your damn shirt on?” Dean let out a bark of laughter.

“That’s a good question.” He was still standing close enough to her that she felt the cotton of his shirt on her back as he pulled it off and it was more erotic than she would have suspected. She wanted to turn around immediately and look at him but his hands were clasped around her arms. “I’ll let you stare at me in a second if you want, but don’t pretend you haven’t been dying to know if he looks as good shirtless as you imagined.” Sam took the black tee he had on off with a slow stretch. Jo hadn’t been wrong about the six-pack and the way his shoulders tapered into his waist and imagining wrapping her legs around him would have gotten her wet if she hadn’t already been soaked.  She ran her eyes up and down his torso and went to turn to look at Dean in the same light when his arms slid down her arms. “Wait, sweetheart.”

Sam, who had backed away from her to take off his shirt, stepped back to Jo and reached for the button of her jeans. As he undid them and unzipped the fly he leaned to put his mouth back by her ear. She hadn’t thought she’d love the feeling of a man’s breath on her the way she was tonight. “You wanna show him what he’s getting into, don’t you? Let him see how wet you are before he puts that mouth on you. Let him see how wet he gets you just by standing there and being beautiful.” Jo whimpered as Sam’s hands tugged her jeans down, thumbs dragging behind the denim to tickle her legs. She stepped out of the pants so she was standing there in only her purple panties. She actually hoped it wasn’t obvious how wet she was. She wanted to say it wasn’t fair that they got to see her in just underwear when they were still wearing pants and the only way she could tell how turned on they were was by touch when Sam spun her around and gave her further evidence of his arousal. “Tell him.”

Dean was devouring the picture his brother and Jo made. Sam’s muscular forearms framed Jo’s perky tits since they were crossed over her body hugging her to him. The size difference between them was astounding and ridiculously hot. Petite, soft Jo, nipples standing at attention and lips parted, willingly doing what his ridiculously muscular, towering brother wanted. His hand reached down to palm his dick through his jeans and he saw both Jo’s and Sam’s eyes follow his movement. “Did you have something to tell me?”

“You…” Jo trailed off and visibly swallowed. The way he neck moved as she did was nearly obscene and Dean couldn’t help but hear Sam’s suggestion of fucking her at once. She looked at him hard, eyes sweeping from his collar bone and the tattoo at his heart down to his hip bones. Dean knew he didn’t have the abs that his little brother did, but he knew enough to know that he was attractive, even if he was a little bit softer around the middle.  “You’re beautiful, Dean.”

Jo brought her hands up to Sam’s arms where he was holding her and pulled them away from her body. He let them fall away and she took a few steps towards Dean, grabbing one of his hands from his side.  She brought it to the front of her panties and made him rub. The cotton slid in her slickness and he wanted to slip the hand in them to feel it. As if reading his mind, Jo after a moment of letting him rub at her through her underwear, hooked her thumb around his and brought it to the top edge of the garment. “I want you to really feel how wet I am. Touch me.”

With that imperative, Dean slipped his hand in the material and felt the line of pubic hair Jo kept unshaved on his palm while his fingers sought out her pussy. He brushed over her clit and she moaned. Her curled his other hand around her and motioned to his brother to come to them. He did and Dean grabbed his hand, placing it at the top of Jo’s panties where his other wrist was. “You need to feel too.”

The purple material was stretched over the Winchesters’ hands and when Sam’s fingers replaced Dean’s at the entrance to her cunt and Dean’s moved to concentrate on her clit she knew she wouldn’t last long without coming. She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her throat and as much as she was enjoying the feeling of Dean working her over and Sam working in her with their hands, she hadn’t been able to get the idea of Dean on his knees with his lips against her pussy from her mind since Sam had said it. The thought had her moaning in earnest.

“Go ahead and come for us, Jo.” She was moaning into Dean’s mouth as he kissed her, tongue flicking out against hers tasting the shape of her teeth and tongue. Sam kept talking as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. “You make such sexy sounds. Is this enough for you or are you thinking about what I said earlier? Dean using his tongue on your clit instead of that hand, or me pumping into you while he works into my ass? Are you gonna come for us when we do that, Jo?” The way he said her name was so sexy, Jo felt her vagina start to flutter around his fingers. Dean hadn’t stopped rubbing circles around her clit and Sam was pressing against the front of her wall, giving shallow thrusts while looking for her g-spot. He’d shifted the position of his arm so his hand was reaching up between her legs instead of around so Jo didn’t have a very good position to do anything for him but when she reached a hand up and grabbed at the back of his neck, catching some of his hair in a fist, he moaned a little and that was enough to send her over the edge. She was nearly whining as she rode out her orgasm on their hands and Dean was still kissing her through it.

Dean’s hand was slowing when his lips left Jo’s with a gasp and when she had the capacity to wonder why, she looked over. Sam had grabbed the back of his brother’s head and pulled him into a kiss over her shoulder. It was impossible for Jo to look away from the give and take of their mouths, and let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding when they both closed in on her to get closer to each other. They’d removed their hands from her panties and had them wrapped around each other and Jo was caught between them, nipples pressed into Dean’s stomach and back against Sam’s abs. She could feel both of their hips rocking slightly as they continued to kiss and she brought her own mouth to Dean’s chest, working her way up to the junction of his  neck and shoulder. Dean somehow had mind enough to gently be pushing the three of them back and when Sam’s legs hit the edge of the bed he pulled himself out of reach of either of them.

“Pants off, Sammy.” And it was really fucked up, she knew, that she thought it was hot that Dean would still call his brother by the diminutive even when telling him to get naked. “And then sit, and scoot over a little; I wanna have room to work.” He winked at Jo with a smirk and she sat down without really meaning to. She looked away from him to watch Sam unzip his jeans and slide out of them without fanfare, the outline of his dick clearly visible in the boxer-briefs he was wearing.

“So being that tall does have its advantages then,” she grinned at him. She figured if there was ever a time to be bold in front of the Winchesters, when they’d just spent time getting you off and then making out was it. He smiled back and sat down.

“It has its perks, yeah,” he said before kissing her, one hand on the back of her head. He was moving back on the bed and Jo had to follow him if she wanted him to keep teasing at her bottom lip the way he was doing. As they moved she felt hands on her ankles that slid up, stopping at the back of her knees. Dean kissed at the insides of them, soft and sweet, before spreading her legs wider to crawl between them. She and Sam were halfway to the headboard when he lay on his side, bringing her down with him but Dean’s hands held her in place on her back. His lips were tickling her slightly as they were pressed against every bit of skin on the inside of her legs between her knees and her groin. She squirmed.

“Hold still, sweetheart, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he said against the edge of her panties. His hands were curved under her, on her ass and he squeezed a little as his teeth took hold of that same edge and pulled her now drenched purple bikinis down. He dropped them off the side of the bed and looked down at her from where he’d sat back on his knees. She stopped kissing Sam and looked back. Before she could ask if there was something wrong or if he’d bizarrely lost his nerve or something, he was leaning back down, kissing the line of hair.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight and mused out loud, “Your back is like a work of art,” before she dissolved into a moan. Dean had given her clit one long swipe of his tongue before putting his lips around it and suckling. She was still sensitive from the orgasm earlier so when his teeth barely scraped over her, she nearly screamed. While Dean tongued at her, moving from clit to cunt and back, making obscene noises, Sam’s eyes were glued to the scene. The only time he looked away was when Jo’s hands, which were scrambling for purchase on anything that wasn’t Dean’s head so she didn’t just grind down onto his mouth without any respect for his ability to breathe, found him. The one curled into his thigh, nails digging into him so hard that he hissed. “Sorry,” she moaned and unclenched the fingers attempting to bury themselves in Sam’s leg. He didn’t respond before she moved her hand up, palm rubbing against Sam’s still clothed erection. Her hips were rocking and her other hand had been flung across her eyes as though the sight of Dean’s head between her legs was too much but Sam couldn’t stop looking. He could see that Dean was teasing her, tongue darting out quickly to touch her at random intervals and laving at her in long laps at other times. He looked up, expecting to catch Jo’s eye no doubt, but slipped over to meet Sam’s instead. Lust always made Dean’s eyes greener, even when he’d just seen a hot girl at a bar, but while he was actually having sex, Sam could barely stand it.

“Jo, look at him,” he said. It was in a tone that brooked no argument and she threw her hand down, the other one still skating over his cock just enough to tease him. At the same time she met Dean’s eyes, he must have done something ingenious with his mouth because Jo was crying out, hips practically bucking off the bed if it hadn’t been for his arms wrapped around her. Sam couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her when she was making such pretty sounds and she was thrusting her tongue into his mouth as though she’d die if she didn’t and still moaning. Dean must have pulled away from her because the moan turned into a whine at Sam’s lips.

“Sorry, Jo, don’t wanna wear you out too quick.” Jo and Sam stopped kissing and she looked at Dean, eye lids heavy and she looked half drunk.

“Then you two’d better get naked and fuck me,” she said, clearly worked up.  Sam and Dean looked at each other once again and Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, unbuttoning his fly and pulling the zipper down. He didn’t bother keeping his underwear on, pulling them off as he did his jeans. Fitting that the most comfortable Jo had ever seen Dean Winchester would be when he was hard and naked and when he had a gun in his hand and a hunt on his mind. She wanted to ride him until his eyes rolled from the pleasure of it. Instead of saying that though, hoping it was conveyed with the look she gave him when her eyes reached his again, she turned to Sam, hand on his pants.

“You too, Sam.” She was tugging them down and he let her, lifting off the bed so that his boxer-briefs could be lowered and his cock sprung out. He kicked out of the underwear and Jo was lucky she didn’t get a bruised shin for it. She didn’t really notice though, eyes glued to what Sam had just revealed. Pre-come decorated the tip of his dick and Jo had the strangest desire to lean down and taste it. She realized she could. She was in charge, even if her frayed nerves let her forget. Sam and Dean would offer suggestions, but ultimately, she got to decide who did what here.

Dean had crawled onto the bed behind her so that the three of them were all naked and the Winchesters were looking at her in between them waiting for instructions.  “I want to see you two together,” she began, but before they moved to make that happen she continued on. “Later. First, I want Dean to fuck me while I taste you, Sam.” Had she not just been brought to the verge by Dean going down on her, she might have blushed at what she said, but as it was, she just waited to see how they responded. Sam’s response was to kiss her again, quick and hard in a way that left her gasping as Dean sat up, back against the headboard.

“That sounds great, Jo. Whatever you want,” Sam told her after he stopped plunging his tongue past her lips. He then treated his brother to the same and Jo wasn’t sure if she’d ever get tired of the sight; they were both gorgeous, muscled and strong jawed with a light sheen of sweat. He positioned himself in between his brother’s feet, sitting on his heels, knees bent, where Dean had spread his legs slightly. “Unless you want to position this differently,” he said while he moved. She got onto her own knees and shook her head. Before she could move, Dean’s hands were on her waist and he somehow managed to pick her up cleanly and set her back down, knees on the outside of his thighs.

“Sam, will you reach into‒” but he hadn’t even finished his request when Sam was straightening up from where he’d leaned over the side of the bed with a condom in his hand. Instead of handing it to Dean, he used his teeth to rip it open and he leaned over Jo to slide it on him. He pulled back and caught Jo’s mouth in a kiss before he sat back. He adjusted so that he wasn’t on his knees but his butt and threw his legs over Dean’s knees, feet next to Jo’s where they were near Dean’s ass. Dean’s hand was on Jo’s hip rubbing small circles when he asked: “You ready, baby?”

She said “yes,” deliberately and the head of Dean’s dick was sliding between her labia, pressing against her clit before slipping back to her pussy. She groaned as he entered her and it matched the sound he made. Jo ground down to bring him in deeper and she bit her lip. His hand was curled around her hip and he bucked up slightly, earning another groan. She was moving up and down as if on her body’s own volition and he pulled her back against his chest, lips at her ear.

“Don’t leave Sammy to just watch,” he said. She nodded and leaned forward, kissing Sam, as if anyone needed foreplay at this point. She still kissed down his chest before she was leaning down, level with his dick and darted her tongue out to taste the tip. Dean was pumping in and out of her cunt with shallow thrusts that felt fabulous and she decided that if she was going to do this, she might as well do it all the way and opened her mouth to take Sam as deep as she could. One hand was bearing her weight but she brought the other up to circle the part of him that she couldn’t fit in her mouth. She bobbed up and down slowly, letting her tongue drag up and down.

Dean thrust up harder than he had been doing and Jo let out a moan around Sam’s cock while it was deep in her throat and he let out a groan too. Dean pulled out, nearly leaving Jo’s body but shoving back in hard. She rocked forward, nearly choking on Sam because of it but it felt amazing to be caught between the two of them like that.  One of Sam’s hands wound itself in Jo’s hair but it just rested there as she tried to take him even further, tip of him hitting the back of her throat. Dean had hit a steady pace of nearly leaving and slamming back into Jo and her hips moved with him and on his upstroke she ground down in a circle.

“Just like that, Jo,” he groaned out. If her eyes had been up and not shut as the Winchesters fucked into her from both ends, she would have seen their eyes catch before they both sped up. For Sam that meant actually moving his hips, since he’d been letting Jo set the speed completely. Dean’s hands were gripping Jo’s hips, fingers digging into the bone but the hand that Sam had wound into her hair was trailing over her back, tickling her ribs before finding one of her nipples and rolling and pinching it. Between that and the pace that Dean was pumping his hips in and out of her cunt, Jo was moaning. One of Dean’s hands was suddenly digging into her hip extra hard but then it was gone, snaking around to rub at her clit. She pushed down against his hand and she could feel herself getting close as she continued the action. She felt herself get even closer to orgasm when she heard Sam.

“Jo, I wish Dean could feel how could your mouth feels. You’re spectacular.” He paused for a moment, hips lifting shallowly. “Does her pussy feel as good as her tongue does, big brother?”

Wherever Sam had gotten that filthy mouth, Jo wanted to go there and thank them. She hadn’t realized how much of a turn out dirty talk was until it was coming from Sam’s lips. Dean didn’t answer with anything except a groan and he sped up his hips. He was snapping them, cock pulsing in and out of Jo, fingers rubbing quickly against her clit in circles and back and forth and switching. She was trying to concentrate on her own movements, tongue trying to circle the head of Sam’s cock but what Dean was doing to her felt so good she was almost positive that her tongue was just resting against the younger Winchester.

“Are you gonna come for us again, Jo? You feel so good but I bet feeling you come would feel even better, sweetheart,” Dean said, thrusting hard into her, fingers playing at her clit. She was so close.

“I hope you feel as good as you’re making us feel,” Sam told her. She was breathing heavily through her nose. “Will you come for Dean? Come on his cock. He’s fucking you so good while you let me fuck your mouth. Come for him, Jo.”

Sam’s voice would do it. As Dean pumped in and out of her pussy and his fingers rubbed her clit and Sam rolled her nipples she felt herself begin to shake. The boys kept doing what they were doing and Jo fucked herself back, hard, nearly erratic, not keeping in the steady rhythm Dean had been moving in. He switched the pattern his fingers had been moving in and that was it. She felt herself clench around Dean’s cock and that made him move at a different pace, close to his own orgasm. His hips stuttered as Jo reached her second orgasm, keeping Sam’s dick in her mouth and keening around it.

“Jo, I’m gonna come,” he ground out from between his teeth. She could tell he was holding back from bucking into her mouth and she pulled away to give him permission.

“Then fuck my mouth. Let me taste you,” was what she groaned out before putting her lips back around him. Her cunt was still contracting around Dean while he was moving sporadically. Jo suspected it was the way his brother had sounded on the edge that was bringing Dean to his climax. Jo was moaning through her orgasm and she felt Sam’s hand move back to her hair and tighten. It wasn’t really a shock, he’d told her he was going to come after all, but Jo tasting Sam’s come as he shot off into her mouth was surprising in the way that it made her orgasm seem even more intense. She groaned and tried to swallow and got lost in that and the way Dean was spasming against her. Between the sensations she was practically screaming in pleasure.  The three of them rode out their orgasms, the Winchesters pumping into Jo and she grinding down onto wherever they were touching her.

After a moment, Sam pulled out of her and she let herself breathe out of her mouth. Dean slipped out of her as well and she sat up. Sam moved up onto his knees and to Jo’s side, leaning against the headboard.

“Damn,” Dean said, being the one to break the silence. He was slipping the condom off and tying it into a knot when Jo looked at him. She wished there was a nonverbal way to convey that that’s how she felt as well, but settled for pressing nearly chaste kisses to the boys’ lips. They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke.

“Can we sleep for a minute before we go again?” two pairs of eyes met hers with smiles.

“Yes,” one of them breathed and Jo laid down where she had been sitting. In a while she’d wake up and want to see them together but right now she wanted to rest.

“Don’t you dare leave in the morning without saying anything,” she told them, both of their arms wrapped around her and the other one.

“We promise,” yawned Sam. Jo wanted to smile at him but getting double-teamed was tiring and she was seconds away from sleep. Dean was already snoring when she drifted off.

When the sun was up, Jo awoke with Sam and Dean surrounding her, despite the way their positions had changed throughout the night. She remembered that something else as going on in their lives, but she was glad to have gotten to spend the night with them. They might be one soul in two bodies, but they’d let her interrupt that and she was grateful. She did wonder if they were going to pay for breakfast though. She mentally shrugged and burrowed herself back into their warmth. Even if she didn’t get a free breakfast, she’d definitely had worse holidays.

 

 


End file.
